The Curious Catalyst of Being Trolled

How Nefarious Comments on YouTube are fuelling my Dream to Play Live Again...

Dear friends, I wrote the piece below before yesterday’s release of the song on YouTube. I am completely overwhelmed by the support, shares and especially comments. You all rock my world. I am at zero hour in my musical life, and the only way that I will ever fulfil my dream to tour again is if I can build my project digitally. The support I’ve had this week has made this feel like my first ever release, and have lit the fire that despite the absurdity of my dream as someone in my 40’s — who knows. Who damn well knows. The most important thing is that I feel ready to fight. To rise or fall joyfully. I am ready for both outcomes, and made alive by the challenge. Now let’s deal with the trolls…Love Jim

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The Curious Catalyst of Being Trolled

This week, I was trolled on YouTube.

While making a video, I’d written a song and knocked up a demo while filming.

Presenting work at such an early, embryonic stage is not common in the arts — there is, if anything, such an over-striving towards perfectionism that life is often drummed out of the creation.

Two years ago, before setting up my podcast and newsletter, I was scratching around, looking for fresh ideas for this new time in my life.

I had the sense I was entering a chapter but hadn’t yet the courage to start writing it.

How can you write when you don’t know what to write about…?

I then stumbled upon the #buildinpublic community of software engineers, hackers, and coders. I was first inspired by and then friendly with many in the field. 

The essence of #buildinpublic is transparency about your projects and processes.

This includes sharing open-source code, financial details, and openly documenting the successes and failures of new ventures.

My very first podcast was with Karthik Puvvada, the flagbearer of #buildinpublic. He has become a great friend and mentor. He even asked to use “Obstacles” as the intro to “The Build in Public Podcast”!

It’s inspired my process with the album, during which I’ve attempted to map out my journey as honestly as I can.

So that was the background to releasing the demo mentioned above.

A Song, Some Trolls, and the Vampires

The song attracted vitriol from two viewers, neither of whom had ever dropped in before — telling me to give up, that I didn’t have a chance, couldn’t play — but more vitriolically than I care to write here.

The comments sent me back into the dark room which preceded the beginning of my new project — where the vampires live.

Then, the strangest thing happened.

Rather than being overcome by insecurity, doubt and self-judgement, I realised that I had already encountered each of these demons. More so, I had got to know them intimately. They had become my friends. In a word, I had found nothing there to be afraid of.

I greeted them, almost as old friends, for I’ve come to learn that these shadows - our private insecurities or worries about our inadequacies — are partners on our journeys.

They didn’t jump on my back and crush me. Instead, we danced a dance together, a waltz in fact, and I felt energised by their lead.

The Danger of Comparison Traps

Amid that waltz, I discovered some crucial realisations. One was that we only ever get to be ourselves.

I will never have the singing voice of Adele, or the guitar chops of Jimi Hendrix, but I can give what I have to give.

It strikes me that many of us hoard our work because we fall into terrible comparison traps.

Every day we are bombarded with media, and much of it carries the work or message of the top 1%’ers — people who have reached the very top of their professions or industries.

The danger is comparing ourselves to those with extraordinary talent or at the peak of their careers, making us believe we should already be at the height of our own.

That can stop us working on our own little wonders — the work that matters to us or moves our growth forward.

Immediately after facing these trolls, I received several profoundly moving comments from supporters who encouraged me to continue my journey. They expressed that they find value in my videos and urged me to persevere on my path. Their support meant a great deal. We can only be ourselves—and that is not only a unique miracle but also enough.

Facing the Bottleneck

I am pretty robust, but sometimes things do get inside you. What interested me about these comments was examining exactly how they needled me.

Upon reflection, I realised what it was.

I have completed the first part of my journey — which is to record the album. I have also stepped onto the path of getting it into the world.

What I haven’t addressed though, is the question of whether I will play live.

I didn’t realise it, but I have been suppressing it.

There is not a question of whether I want to play live again or not — I would go on tour three times a year for the rest of my life — if there was the audience. That’s the brutal truth.

No, the reality is that I have been caught in a bottleneck.

I am trapped between two potential paths playing live and neither feels feasible currently.

Namely — I can’t present the music as I want to.

• To take a 5 piece band on the road is far too expensive at the moment. My last tour in 2022 did do okay, but it also highlighted that I need to have the guts to make changes.

• The other option, to play acoustically doesn’t work because none of the new songs are written for an acoustic presentation. It would be to depart from the very journey I’m on whilst entering its very heart.

So there’s the bottleneck.

When trolls targeted me—and I temporarily withdrew into the dark room—I faced a crucial question:

Why are you focusing solely on the problem instead of seeking a solution?

When I searched my heart, it was so transparently clear to me that I wanted — no, yearned — to play live again. The problem was that I didn’t feel good enough to play the songs solo.

Ah ok, there’s the Vampire!

Rather than walking away from the problem, I decided it is time to head into it.

As such, I’ve bought myself an Boss RC600 looping station and I’m going to see if I can figure out how to play the new songs on my own.

Oh, Gawd haha!

This is a new journey and I have no idea how long it will take!

Last year, I beavered away with my film work and used it to finance the recording of the album. It meant that my time in my creative space at Mahalla was focused on writing and play — rather than rehearsal and practice.

Simply put: If I want to fulfil my dream of playing live — given the current economics — I am going to have to improve more in a year than I have done in twenty.

Yikes!

The challenge does stir me.

But I am aware of the copious scale of this challenge.

I have always been an ideas man musically. I can wrestle a melody from the void, make an electric guitar howl, hack away with hooked hands to beat a song from the piano.

But live, I’ve always been supported by world-class musicians who provided a sanctuary where I could showcase my strengths—good songs, a passion for performance, and the knowledge that I meant every word of what I sang.

Trying to bring that alive solo is a daunting prospect.

It raises the Vampire transparently: am I good enough?

Can I get good enough?

Still, I’m so grateful for the trolls. For better or worse, they set fire to the part of me that I was avoiding — and which now I see crystal clear.

I may never achieve this - in fact, just staring at all the buttons on the looping station I feel utterly intimidated - but I am setting out my stall here as I have done since starting this newsletter.

The reality is that some endeavours transpire, and others fall by the wayside — but I’m going to try.

The Beginning of a New Chapter

During this internal conversation, I realised that to fulfil my dream of playing live, I would have to address the very insecurities raised by the trolls.

To do that means, at the ripe old age of 45, committing to the belief that I can become more than I have been musically.

While mulling this I remembered a quote by Steve Martin.

When asked for advice on breaking into the entertainment industry, he said, “Be so good they can’t ignore you.”

What the trolls made me realize is that releasing 'Vampires' wasn't an endpoint but a gateway.

I don't expect to commercially reboot my musical career, but I believe I can become a much better musician—and that excites me, especially at 45.

Why the hell should we stop improving after 40?

The demon we have to overcome is not outside us — it is inside us.

The limiting belief is that our past selves prevent us from becoming our best selves.

This project — in its entirety — is about confronting those limiting beliefs.

Rage against the dying of the light…

I feel new gusto in my heart.

Not the manic zeal and desperation I had when starting, but with a calmer understanding that, in the years ahead, I want to keep growing.

And for any of you who are working through your doubts — or inner trolls — please be careful of this danger:

The reality is that few people ever become world-class at anything. I am profoundly aware of my limitations. But when I search my heart, I do not feel that I have pushed against them as I could. To try to do so excites me.

If you compare yourself to Jimi Hendrix, you’ll probably give up when you hit something you struggle with.

The thoughts: this is impossible, not worthwhile, I’ll never get there…

But if you compare yourself to who you were yesterday, a different way of looking emerges.

That is something realistic.

You can begin a journey of gentle overcoming.

Richard Strauss knew he could never climb the summits that Wagner rose to. Instead, he elected to go his own way: to walk around the mountain.

I am realistic. I will not be able to train musically for 10 hours a day for the next 10 years. And honestly, I don’t want to.

However, what I can do is this:

Rather than becoming so good they can’t ignore me, I can aspire to become better than I once believed I ever could.

That is a worthy goal. That is something I can aim for.

Okay, my dear friends — the journey of a thousand miles begins (again)!

I may not reach the summit. But I will find my way around the mountain.

I hope I meet you there.

Love Jim